


The Granter

by sheankelor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8429371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheankelor/pseuds/sheankelor
Summary: Long ago witches and wizards brewed potions to work a spell. That knowledge was lost to history, or was it? Severus has worked long and hard to be able to brew one potion - one that might just end the war.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween! This story came from the tales of classic Halloween witches. YenGirl was nice enough to beta it for me and Lizzy0305 drew a picture for it. Thank you both ladies!

 

 

Severus crouched close to the floor, listening to the Carrows crowing about something they accomplished that afternoon. They would never notice him tucked in the depths of an armour’s niche. Minerva or one of the older professors might, but then again, they learned to expect him to collect ingredients where they were found no matter where that was. The red algae growing on the wall near the floor was just what he needed. It had taken him years to determine if it was the species he required, and this morning’s last test proved it. He carefully scraped it off the wall, filling a collection vial, as he waited on them to finish talking. Soon their reign here would be done and he knew he would be dancing at their funeral.

 

They finally moved on, allowing him to come out of hiding. He strode through the halls, ignoring students and professors alike as they parted before him, and walked out of the castle. Today was too important to waste on other people’s issues. Even though Halloween came once a year, a day like today only came once a decade and he had been waiting for it every second of this past decade.

 

His steps took him into the Forest but not too far in, the gloom was just falling under the branches. He stopped near a small rock outcropping that created a protected, almost cave-like space inside. Checking the position of the afternoon sun, he let a smile curl his lips.

 

He had made it.

 

A wave of his wand banished the protective ward over the triangular opening, and another lit the flames under the large cauldron that was hanging there. His ingredients were set neatly about, each one collected throughout the past decade and prepared, ready for what he could finally now do. Resting on a small stone was a black pointy hat. Severus contemplated it for a moment before placing it on his head. He might not wear them often, but at this moment it felt appropriate. The potion he was about to brew was older than Merlin himself.

 

‘ _Should I reread the potion? Double check everything once again?’_ He shook his head, there was no need. He had reviewed the potion that morning and again after lunch before he went to collect the algae. He had looked at it every day this past month, refreshing his memory, checking his ingredients and their quality. He had read it at least twice a month for the last several years, and monthly since he had figured out the clues left here and there. It had taken him years to put it all together, and he hoped it was right. If not, then he would be the only one granted his wish.

 

Stepping up to his waist high warm cauldron, the Potions Master began to brew a spell that had not been made since before the days of Merlin. First was six thousand drams of seahorse blood – all male. The blood warmed, shimmering in the light of the candles attached high on the stones walls, their smoke collecting where the stone met above his head. He waited until the fumes began to rise before drizzling two thousand drams of the blue blood from horseshoe crabs harvested on a winter new moon. The potion became a dark purple, and a popping sound told him they were interacting with each other. Next came salt from the sweat of a giant, each crystal making a plopping sound as it was added.

 

He waited, watching the colours and dynamics of the potions change as he continued adding things he had collected throughout the years. The mixture was gently bubbling right below the rim of the cauldron as he added in the algae. Stirring the brew three times to the right with a large paddle, he sent his magic through the wood. There were no words needed for this potion, the brewer’s intent was taken from their magic which was channelled through the stirring paddle just like a wand. How well their intent was understood was reflected in the colour and the clarity of the potion. With all the skills born from both Occlumency and Legilimency, he kept his desire steady and in the forefront of his mind. Not once did he let his mind wander, let his feelings waver.

 

Under his watchful eye the dark grey opaque potion slowly became a translucent spring green, bringing a true smile to the Potions Master’s face. The green gave him hope as it was the colour of Life, Healers, and Slytherin.

 

Thick green fumes rose from the surface, surrounding him from head to toe, waiting for his words. The smell a forest in summer right after a thunderstorm surrounded him, tempting him to forget his intent. At the last second he kept it from shifting. His words, short and simple, were backed up by the firmly held understanding in his mind. “Bring peace and freedom.”

 

The fumes brushed his hair and face before sinking back into the cauldron, causing it to bubble dangerously high. More fume rose from the surface, surrounding him, encasing him in the forest smell, testing his resolve. The also fell back into the cauldron, sinking down into the roiling surface. The fumes surrounded him one last time. Severus kept his doubts from encroaching and his intent strong. This time the fumes fell to the ground and spread out, covering the floor of the almost cave. Another plume emanated from the cauldron, surrounding him, testing him, before flowing to the floor. More and more came, each testing him, each tempting him. After what seemed like hours, the last of the potion left its vessel, tested him. As it slipped away to the floor, Severus watched the fumes wafting out from the almost cave. The cauldron and paddle were bone dry.

 

Propping the paddle up against the stone wall, Severus set the hat back on the rock, _Nox_ ’ed the candles, and walked out of the Forest. The bright green fumes were thicker around him, but were spreading out like a low lying fog across the grounds of Hogwarts. They seemed to glow in the dusk that had set while he was brewing. As the ghosted across the lake, the water reflected them, making it look like his cauldron not long ago. Raising his eyes to the sky, he spotted the full moon hanging low against the horizon. Tonight everything would change, the same as it had sixteen years ago when an infant defeated the Dark Lord. Only this time the menace would be gone for good.

 

He continued his walk to the castle, each step causing the potion made fog to swirl about him. An unnatural calm filled him, blocking his worry about the potion being made wrong, drowning the voice that typically chanted everything he needed to worry about in the back of his head. It was as if he had no cares, as if he was unfettered, as if he was _free_.

 

Anticipation filled him as he pushed open the Great Hall’s doors, the scene he walked into warmed him. The Carrows had attempted to block the decorating of the Great Hall for the Halloween feast as a punishment for the children. He had overruled them and the other professors had sided with him for the first time this entire school year. There were pumpkins stacked in the corners, most carved into jack-o'-lanterns. Charmed bats flitted about, and spiders were induced to spin webs all about. All the castle’s ghosts were in attendance, as was Peeves, but the poltergeist was behaving at the moment.

 

The green fog flowed around him and filled the room, swirling about the ground, drifting up the legs of the tables and benches. As he watched, it encased the occupants, including himself, in a thick green fog. He felt it probing his mind, and he focused on his intent once again. The fumes tested him, passing through his Occlumency shields as if they were not there. His mind, heart and soul were judged and Severus was positive he would be found wanting. Eventually the fumes receded, leaving him standing right inside the doors. They then sank to the floor all across the room, showing a few of the children in each house collapsed onto the floor or slumped onto the table. The Carrows each gave a strangled cry before they collapsed into a heap near the High Table. Two ghosts – one he knew haunted the Owlery and the other in the bowels of the dungeon – vanished from sight, their faces filled with blissful expressions.

 

The fumes rushed back towards him, surrounding him, and brushed against his face before slipping out through the owl passage ways. Severus knew they would spread out to fill the whole British Isle. Each member of the British Wizarding World would experience what they had by the end of the week.

 

“Stanton, Meri, Claud, and Morris.” Severus looked at the four house elves when they appeared. Their eyes were wide but he could see they were not afraid. “Deposit the unconscious ones in the Infirmary, the dead in one of the old dungeon rooms and make it very cold to preserve their bodies for now.”

 

“Yes, Headmaster Snape.” The four elves moved about levitating the bodies and walked out the doors.

 

Severus continued up to the High Table and stopped by Minerva, whose face was filled with shock that was battling an eerie calm. “Would you prefer to be Headmistress, or would you like to regain your title as Deputy?”

 

The Transfiguration Professor gaped at him before gesturing him to the Headmaster’s seat. “Deputy.”

 

Taking his seat, Severus looked down on his students. “Tonight marks the end of an era.” He looked at the two empty seats at the High Table. “We should celebrate the freedom of our school from those who would destroy our peace. Tomorrow shall be a free day from classes. Please alert all the students in hiding that they have no repercussions to fear, and should rejoin their Houses. Now, eat and be merry.”

 

Serving himself from the rapidly appearing food, he knew that tonight’s emergancy staff meeting was going to be short but informative.

 

§§§§§§

 

Severus signalled to all the remaining staff to sit at the meeting table. “If you have questions, ask.”

 

Minerva leant forward. “Do you know what that fog was? What happened to the ones who ...”

 

Severus raised an eyebrow when she trailed off but answered. “The fog is called the Granter. As for those children that are unconscious, they may wake eventually. For those who are dead, they would never have survived in the new world that is coming, so they were granted peace and freedom.”

 

He watched their faces as his words sank in. He could tell they were still under the effects of the potion – they looked as calm and composed as he felt even with exhaustion eating at him.

 

Filius narrowed his eyes and shook his head as if to clear it, but Vector spoke before he could. “What is the Granter?”

 

All eyes looked at him and he couldn’t help but to lean forward, his hands clasped together on the table before him. “We are witches and wizards. We come from a long tradition of magic in many forms. One of the oldest is practically forgotten – potions.

 

“Not the simple brewing that fills the Infirmary, or that the students and Masters alike are trained in, but the potion spells that brought healing and fear to entire countrysides. Potions brewed with intent and intelligence. Potions brewed long before wands were carved and we used our paddles and ingredients as the vessels of our magic.

 

“The Granter is one of those potion spells. It can only be brewed once a decade, at a specific time of the day, with ingredients collected at the right times and in the right circumstances. Such is often the case for the most powerful of magics.”

 

The professors’ eyes were wide and he could see the curiosity deep in Filch’s. Slughorn’s face showed his disbelief, and Severus could understand it. Potion spells were the stuff of legends. Tales told to first year potion apprentices to convince them that there could be glory in brewing even though most of the time it was mundane. Most discounted them by time they were journeymen. Legends were always overrated. He was one of the few who never doubted the tales, and with Voldemort’s unwitting help he had just done what was thought to be impossible.

  
“What does this powerful potion do?” Pomona’s voice was soft, as if trying not to disturb the air about them.

 

“It grants one request. Fulfils one desire.” Severus paused before continuing. “What did you feel when you were in its grip?”

 

“Judged before peace settled in,” answered Babbling. “It made me the most relaxed – the happiest I’ve been in years.”

 

The others nodded, and Severus decided that had to be the reason they had not reacted at all to the happenings just before dinner. He knew at least the Heads typically would be worried about their students and rushing about instead of calmly eating.

 

He looked at each one, noting the fatigue already filling their faces. _‘And I feel even more tired than they look.’_ “We shall continue classes day after tomorrow. As we are currently without a Defence Professor and a Muggle Studies Professor, I ask that each of the classes take it up,teaching sections of the Defence Against Dark Arts. I will teach the Muggle Studies.”

 

As the staff walked out the door at the end of the meeting, Severus wondered if their complacency would continue through the next couple of days.

 

§§§§§§

 

Severus noticed the change in the atmosphere the next morning at breakfast. The anxiety and uncertainty that cloaked the Great Hall wore away at his euphoria from discovering the Dark Mark was gone from his arm that morning. He hadn’t noticed it last night as he crashed into bed not long after the staff meeting, not bothering to undress.

 

The students weren’t the only ones anxious. The professors were also starting to show signs of it. Admittedly, they were better at hiding it, but he could see their attention lingering on the empty seats that dotted all the tables. Severus was glad all of the missing students were in the Infirmary. Even the resistance group was once again sitting with their classmates, though a few of them were also with Poppy.

 

It was sometime between breakfast and lunch that the students truly shook off the potion’s calming effects. The Ravenclaws were now researching with their usual smattering of other Houses joining in with them. The remaining members of the other Houses were batting ideas back and forth as to what the green mist might be. Some of the Hufflepuff and even a Gryffindor or two approached members of Slytherin to find out if they had an idea. All had shaken their heads, and the Houses sent representatives to find out what the researchers had learnt.

 

Severus retired to the staffroom, not wishing to be under the watchful gaze of the former Headmasters. He had the Muggle Studies curriculum spread out across the table attempting to create lesson plans that might catch the seventh and fifth year students up to where they should have been. Luckily they had only suffered Alecto Carrow’s teaching for just under two months.

 

“There’s no potion like that, Snape.” Slughorn settled into one of the larger chairs in the room, which was unfortunately close to Severus. “You did a good job telling it as if it were truly a potion spell, but it can’t be one.”

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Severus watched as the other professors settled about the room. _‘Maybe my old classroom would’ve been a better place to do this.’_

 

Slughorn continued. “I know all the rumours and history – Potions Masters like to go on about that part of history about the same way Binns loves Goblin Wars – but that’s all it is, history and legends. Those potion spells have long since vanished, there is not a known source of how to create one. The last one ever recorded being _made_ was by Terminus Tate during the time of Merlin. We both know that there is no potion known to witch or wizard that can act like one.” Slughorn pulled out a small tin of crystallised fruit and selected a cherry. “You might want to get Poppy to check you over. That mist might have messed with your mind.”

 

“I’ll keep that under consideration.” Severus collected his parchments and headed for the door. He had no desire to tell Slughorn about his discovery nor the years of hard work putting together the potion. “If anyone needs me, I will be in my old Potions classroom.”

 

Once sequestered away, he spread back out the parchments. His hope for peace wasn’t granted as Minerva, Filius, and Pomona came through the door. Filius locked and cast a number privacy charms over it as it shut. Severus held in a sigh. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

 

Pomona flashed him a smile. “We believe you did brew the potion spell.”

 

“And we would like to know what to expect,” added Minerva.

 

Filius just watched him, waiting.

 

Severus looked from one to the other before raising an eyebrow. “You believe that I found information about them that no Potions Master in the world has, and that I was capable of using it?”

 

Filius snorted lightly and Minerva glared at him. Pomona hands hit the table as she leant over it, her words soft but carrying. “Yes, we do. We know you, Severus. We know you better than Horace. We’ve watched you grow and become the man you are today. We’ve seen your ability to work hard, we’ve seen your brilliance at finding and piecing together random bits of knowledge, we’ve seen your courage to try new things, and we all know just how cunning and ambitious you are.”

 

“The Headmaster’s position wasn’t your goal.” Filius spoke just as softly.

 

“No,” Minerva joined in, “ending this war with Vo … Voldemort defeated was. With that goal in mind, and all the things Pomona pointed out, we have no doubt you brewed the Granter. All we wonder about is if you created it or found it.”

 

Severus stared at them, his fingers curling slightly about the quill he was holding. “You aren’t condemning me? Cursing my name? Wishing I was dead? I brewed a potion that placed children in the Infirmary, killed two professors on my staff, killed who knows how many people throughout the Isle, and sending who knows how many more to St Mungo’s or their own bed never to wake up again.”

 

The three Heads fixed him with their signature looks – each one saying with a different facial expression for him to stop wasting their time. He shrugged lightly. “You’ve been doing so all school year.”

 

Pomona huffed. “You survived the mist.”

 

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Which might only be because I brewed it.”

 

Filius nodded. “But we don’t think so. It judged you the same as it judged the rest of us. You said it worked off of the brewer’s intent. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, explain what it was.”

 

Severus stared at them, his eyes searching their faces for the truth. He didn’t want to feel their condemnation, but he was more prepared for it than this acceptance for his deed. Minerva’s exasperated huff started him speaking, “My request was for us – the British witches and wizards – to have freedom and peace. Last night showed that the mist will judge you to determine if you could live that way. Those could never accept either, died, and those who just need to adjust to the idea or could do one but not the other yet were knocked unconscious. This will be happening all across the island. There is going to be paranoia, but the Dark Lord should have died along with his more rabid followers. After that, we will have to see. The potion’s effects will last a week.”

 

It should if all his research proved right, if he brewed it correctly, if he brewed the right amount, but he wasn’t going to worry them about that. The look that Filius shot him told him the Ravenclaw was already thinking it anyway.

 

Minerva frowned slightly, her lips compressing into a thin line. The brim of her hat dipped as she spoke, “Do you know if the unconscious can hear? Maybe we need to just tell those students that the war is over.”

 

“I don’t know,” Severus glanced down at the parchments but didn’t really see them as he thought. “Slughorn was right when he said that last time a potion like this had been brewed was during the time of Merlin, and that wasn’t this particular one. Tate brewed a healing potion spell that cured his entire village of a plague. The information about potions spells is scarce to non-existent.”

 

Filius tapped a finger on the table, his brow furrowed in thought. “Then we shall have to try. We should take note who is in the Infirmary and then take turns talking to them telling them what is occurring. We should also try to bring in other students that they might trust more than the professors.”

 

“Maybe we should also let them know why they are unconscious, and help them to see that they should accept the peace and freedom being offered to everyone,” mused Pomona.

 

Severus tapped a finger to his lip while he thought of their suggestions. “All sound like a good plan. Minerva, if you will draw up a visitor schedule, we will try this. Now,” he pointed to the door, “I have lesson plans to figure out before tomorrow.”

 

The three professors’ eyes widened, before sending him an apologetic look, and then headed for the door. Severus knew they just remembered that he had taken on the Muggle Studies class.

 

§§§§§§

 

Severus sat in the Slytherin corner of the Infirmary. Poppy hadn’t been happy about segregating her domain but had given in when they explained their plan. He, Minerva, Filius and Pomona all agreed that the students might listen to their Heads of House, and in the Slytherins’ cases, Severus’ words better.

 

“The war is done.” Severus pitched his voice to carry through the entire room even though he was speaking softly. “The Dark Lord is no more – I promise you.” He looked about not just at the snakes, but all the rest of his students. “I know each of you, I’ve watched you grow, listened to your fears, your hopes, your dreams. I know you wish freedom, you crave peace to live with your family and friends.”

 

His lips twitched into an almost smile when a Gryffindor turned over, presenting his back to Severus. His breath then caught – the boy had moved. None of the children had so much as twitched an eyelid before this moment. “Yes, even you, Mr Blake. I have watched all the students here. You may think I was only looking for mistakes, but I was paying close attention to everything I could.” He leant forward, staring intently at the child. “Your sister, she’s waiting on you in the Great Hall. She’s collecting notes and arranging for others to help you understand the material you are missing.”

 

A soft moan came from the Gryffindor and a hand moved.

 

“Yes, I know, she’s being very much a Ravenclaw about this. I do understand how most Gryffindors have little use for notes and studying, but it’s her way of coping. If you could accept whatever you aren’t sure of – whether it’s the idea of peace between us all, or the freedom to choose what you wish to accomplish – then you will wake up and save yourself from the mountain of scrolls that will be soon waiting for you.” Severus held his breath as the boy’s brow wrinkled and his eyelids fluttered. Another groan resounded in the quiet, causing Severus to whip about and he stared into the opened eyes of a Ravenclaw – Miss Early.

 

“Stanton, Meri, Claud,” he spoke softly even as he watched the confusion and uncertainty fill the girl’s brown eyes. The three elves popped near him. “Please fetch Minerva, Filius, and Pomona.”

 

They popped away just as Poppy came through the door. Severus nodded towards Miss Early and returned his attention to Mr Blake. Hazel eyes were staring at him, causing him to narrow his in satisfaction. “Good day to you, Mr Blake.”

 

“You mean it?” The boy pushed himself up with one arm, propping himself against his headboard. “You’re not lying, are you Headmaster? You-Know-Who is gone?”

 

Minerva, Filius, and Pomona came through the door as he answered. “Yes, Voldemort is no more, Mr Blake.”

 

He spun about as three other people trailed through the door following the Heads closely. “Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, I’m pleased to see that you’ve returned.” He waved them towards the only unoccupied bed. “Madam Pomfrey will be with you in just a moment. I know she will wish check you over.”

 

“Minerva,” Severus tipped his head towards Blake.

 

The Head of Gryffindor gasped just as Filius noticed Miss Early. Both moved to their students as Pomona went to see if any of hers were awake yet leaving Severus with the trio. Severus raised an eyebrow. “I think I told you three to sit.”

 

Potter stared at him defiantly, flanked by Granger and Weasley. “Why should we listen to you, Snape?”

 

Weasley chimed in, his blue eyes hard. “How did you survive the mist? Harry almost didn’t.”

 

Severus darted a quick assessing look over the black haired teen, taking in the pallor and the thinness which couldn’t completely hide the general air of wellbeing.

 

Poppy answered Weasley before he could, her wand in hand. “Because our esteemed Headmaster was a spy just as Albus always said. Now, listen to him and sit on the bed. I need to check over you.”

 

Granger gingerly sat on the edge of the bed. “Spy?”

 

“Spy, Miss Granger. Everything you witnessed me do, and things you didn’t witness, were all on Albus’ orders.” His gaze bore into Potter’s. “He was always placing his people where he thought they could do their best to finish this war. My place was here, in the school, as the Headmaster. Yours was to be off hunting up whatever he sent you to find.”

 

Comprehension flooded Potter’s face and Severus glanced at the other two. They were reluctantly accepting what he said. “Water under the bridge – Voldemort is dead, the war is over.” The Prophet had proclaimed it yesterday. He had almost called another free day today, but decided the children needed the normalcy especially when the missives started coming in about family members. Speaking of normalcy, “You’re starting a bit late in the term, but Hogwarts is pleased to welcome you back. Your beds have been waiting for you. Books shall be found for your classes. Just let Professor McGonagall know which ones you are planning on continuing and you shall be scheduled in. The individual professors will arrange with you how to catch up the last two months.”

 

The three looked at each other, their eyes wide. Potter finally looked back at him. “Thank you. We weren’t sure what we would find here, but we would appreciate taking our last year.”

 

Severus nodded once before walking away, leaving Poppy to check them over. He would ask her later if there was anything he needed to be aware of.

 

§§§§§§

 

“We’re here to arrest Severus Snape, Headmaster of Hogwarts.” Minister Fudge stood behind five Aurors, his eyes searching the crowd in the main entry hall, on the moving staircases, and crowding the doorway of the Great Hall.

 

The professors stopped on the first steps on the staircase going up. Severus turned and surveyed his unwelcomed guest. He caught Tonks and Shacklebolt’s eye before looking at the other three Aurors, doing his best to place them. The professors shifted slightly, tightening their grouping around him.

 

Minerva stepped directly in front of him, her hazel eyes narrowed with dissatisfaction. “Arrest him? Now? It’s been three weeks since the Green Mists.” A frown formed on her brow as she tipped her head slightly to one side. “Surely if it was of that much importance, you would have sent an Auror team out here earlier.”

 

Fudge glared at her, defiance hiding behind his normal smiling facade. “We’ve had other, more important, things to handle.”

 

“Then, as he is obviously not a danger to the school, you can leave the Headmaster here until his trial.” She continued.

 

Vector jumped in. “You could leave a couple of Aurors to watch over him. As we’re down two professors, if you can leave one who’s qualified to teach Defence Against Dark Arts that’d be wonderful. If you have one who can teach Muggle Studies, that’d be perfect.”

 

Babbling continued, “Surely you wish him to work hard – to atone for his misdeeds. With all that’s going on, leaving him here to struggle through with us should be ample punishment.”

 

Silence descended as students and professors alike waited to hear what he said.

 

“Shacklebolt, Tonks, and Dawlish,” Fudge studied the gathered professors, his expression showing his suspicion, “watch him carefully. Do not leave him alone for one second and escort him to the Ministry the moment you’re told to.”

 

Hooch stepped forward with just a touch of menace. “Give us warning when you’re taking him.”

 

Fudge just nodded before he headed back to the doors, leaving the school with only part of the Auror detachment he had brought.

 

Severus swept up the staircase, heading for the staffroom, the other professors following him. They had been heading for a staff meeting before Fudge had interrupted. Severus didn’t bother to see if his new entourage was following him. The elves delivered three more chairs to the room, and the large staff table had a light tea resting upon it by time they arrived. Each professor took their own cup, already prepared the way they liked it, and settled in their preferred seat.

 

Severus gestured to the three unclaimed cups and seats. “Join us.” He refrained from smiling when Tonks and Shacklebolt both complied with an almost familiar air. Dawlish eventually moved to do so as well. Once everyone was settled, he started the meeting. “Auror Dawlish, I would like you to teach the Defence Against Dark Arts Class starting day after tomorrow. That will give the other professors a chance to let you know what they have been able to cover and a moment to look over the curriculum.”

 

“Why me? We’re supposed to be watching you, not minding students.” The man huffed and leant back with a frown on his face.

 

Severus just gave him a bland look, not fazed by his refusal. “Because we are two professors down. We have students coming up on their NEWTs and OWLs who need an instructor. You appear to be competent, and they need a steady hand.”

 

Tonks leant forward. “Do you expect one of us to teach Muggle Studies?”

 

Severus shook his head. “I’m covering that class right now, but I might call upon you on occasions, Auror Tonks, if I’m needed elsewhere.”

 

She nodded and settled back in her seat.

 

Kingsley’s eyes darted between Minerva and him before just resting on him. “If they are going to be in classes, then I shall be with you ever second of every day.”

 

Severus just nodded. “I’ll tell the house elves to move another bed into my room.”

 

He continued with the meeting, hiding his pleased expression. He succeeded in getting the two he trusted to shadow him constantly.

 

§§§§§§

 

Severus sat upright in the hard chair, his face blank, and his hands chained to the chair’s arms. Before him was a sea of purple though he could pick out individual faces. There were a number of seats that were empty, telling him exactly what Fudge found more important than worrying about some half-blood trapped in a school. One part of the problem had to be figuring out who was going to be the Minister since the last one must have passed due to the Granter.

 

Severus hadn’t spotted him in the stands. Kingsley, Tonks, and Dawlish were stationed about him, which was another issue he was not showing is aggravation about. Kingsley had woken him at dawn and hurried him out of Hogwarts. He hadn’t a moment to alert his Deputy, nor make arrangements for the classes that once again were without a professor. He had no illusions about how this trial was going to end. He was never going to see Hogwarts again – he was off to Azkaban or meeting the dementors up close. He never believed the Granter would be able to give him freedom from the consequences of his actions. Even though the potion spell had killed many, and many more will never awake – they had been out for more than a week and were already fading if the Prophet was to be believed – he would do it all over again. All he had promised himself to protect were free to live their own lives without the shadow of Voldemort covering them.

 

“Severus Snape,” Fudge growled. He had wrested control of the trial from Madam Bones just moments earlier. “You know why you’re here?”

 

Severus just raised an eyebrow. It didn’t matter that he knew the outcome, he had never been one to bend easily. He would fight this theft of his hard won peace with every ounce of strength and cunning in him. Green fume seeped out of his robes, and began to swirl about his feet. The look of fear and uncertainty on the Wizengamot’s faces brought a touch of satisfaction to him, and he was very glad he decided to wear the robes that he had brewed the potion spell in, his only regret was that the hat was still in the Forest.

 

Fudge’s eyes darted between the green fog and Severus’ face. “You’re here to be tried as a Death Eater and for the murder of Albus Dumbledore.”

 

“Ah,” Severus tried to move his hands but the chains restricted them. “I’m not a Death Eater. I was a spy in Voldemort’s camp for Albus Dumbledore. He attested to this last time that menace to the Wizarding World died.”

 

Some of the purple people looked at each other, uncertainty on their faces.

 

Severus continued, this time preparing to walk a fine line between truth and lie. “Who are your witnesses that I killed Albus?”

 

“Harry Potter himself said you did!” Fudge leant over the rail, his words spitting from his mouth.

 

“A boy, just a bit over sixteen – not even an adult. His testimony was what?” Severus caught Kingsley shifting slightly next to him and wondered if it was to attack him or to protect him. _‘Or he could be tired of standing.’_

 

Madam Bones wrest control back by unrolling a scroll. “He said you entered the scene, pushed Draco Malfoy out of the way, and cast a spell – the Killing Curse – on Albus Dumbledore. A green light left your wand and struck the Headmaster, causing him to fall over the ramparts.”

 

Severus narrowed his eyes as the thought. He hadn’t been positive the boy heard the spell’s words and had just seen the light. He might could still work with it. “Albus planned the attack on him, even insisted on a spell that would appear to be the Killing Curse to those who’d see and hear it. I cast the spell he requested. I was afraid he would fall over the ramparts, but he pleaded with me, so I continued our farce.”

 

“And just what did Albus gain by you killing him?” Fudge growled.

 

“He wished me to be the Headmaster of the school so that I could protect the students there. He trusted me to mitigate the more drastic measures Voldemort wanted to be used to bring them to heel.” He fell silent, knowing there was not much else he could say and still stay on the side of the truth.

 

“Well, it was a wasted effort,” one of the Wizengamot yelled, “he would have survived the Green Mist and it was only five months since then.”

 

A dark glare pinned the man to his seat. “He didn’t know about it, he couldn’t take it into account, and we did the best we could at the time to make sure the students were safe – that’s part of the job of a Hogwarts Professor.”

 

The Granter swirled about him, coming up to waist height, and tendrils were beginning to drift away towards the Aurors standing guard near him. Kingsley and Tonks both shifted this time.

 

Fearful eyes tracked its movements as the door slammed open behind them.

 

“Minister Fudge,” Minerva McGonagall snapped out the man’s name, her displeasure evident to all in the room. “You agreed to let the school know when Headmaster Snape would be called to trial.” She strode across the room, stopping next to Severus’ chair, the Granter swirling about her. She batted the fumes away from her face. “You didn’t let us know. You had to yank him out of there quickly, not giving him a chance to inform me, his Deputy, of what was happening. Your actions have left Hogwarts without a Headmaster and a professor.”

 

“One?” Fudge asked, shock causing him to speak. “I thought you needed two.”

 

“Oh, you left two classes standing about waiting on their Professors, causing fear and confusion to run rampant through the student body when they couldn’t be found. Dawlish was teaching the Defence Against Dark Arts course, but Headmaster Snape was teaching the Muggle Studies course – very competently teaching it.” Minerva waved the fumes away from her face again and looked down at Severus. “Why is this here?” Her hand went through a green tendril, making her question obvious.

 

“I fear these robes must have become contaminated with it. They’re the ones I wore the day it came.” Severus wanted to rub a hand over the black fabric, but contented himself with a sigh. “I thought it was fitting to wear them here, as they were what I wore last time I was judged.”

 

Minerva nodded once and then turned to Madam Bones. “We haven’t heard anything about other Death Eaters being put on trial. Why is Severus, Albus’ spy, standing one?”

 

“For the murder of Albus Dumbledore.” Amelia Bones stood as she answered.

 

Minerva snapped, “What happened on that tower was planned.”

 

He jerked his head about and stared up at Minerva. He knew she hadn’t known when it happened.

 

“How do you know that!?” screeched someone in the back.

 

“Because Albus told me.” Her tone was matter of fact to anyone who hadn’t turned reading people into a fine art and hadn’t worked with her for as many years as Severus.

 

Studying the Deputy Headmistress, it dawned on him she was walking as fine a line as he had. That was what her tone was hiding.

 

“And we were _not_ to be informed?” Bones leant forward, only to move back as the Granter almost touched her.

 

Minerva and Severus both looked pointedly at the empty places. Severus answered the question for her. “As Voldemort’s reach was wide and deep, no. It would have defeated the entire purpose of the farce.”

 

“Since that has been cleared up, Severus is free to teach his class?” pushed Minerva. “He has three more today.”

 

Fudge shot to his feet. “He’s a Death Eater and a murder, no matter what you say, and he should face the consequences of his action.”

 

Minerva stared at him before addressing her answer to Madam Bones. “Lucius Malfoy was also clearly a Death Eater and committed murder. Why has he not been tried and is allowed to walk the halls of the Ministry with not one Auror trailing him? Severus has had three Aurors watching him constantly – twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week for almost two weeks – and is now standing trial. There are many others I can name who are not facing this indignity that have committed the same crimes, and yet they are allowed to go on with their lives as if nothing has changed. So, I ask again, why is Severus here and not them?”

 

Amelia Bones spoke up before Fudge could. “They no longer bear the Dark Mark. All those who the Green Mist,” she shrunk back from the green fog beginning to lap around her feet. The rest of the Wizengamot on the same level were doing the same. “Killed retained the Mark as did the ones who fell unconscious. If an unconscious victim woke up, the Mark was gone.”

 

“No one checked my arm.” Severus spoke up quietly from his chair. He moved his left arm, flexing it against the chains. “I cannot show you its lack of adornment chained like this.”

 

Fudge snorted, “Lack of adornment? You want us to believe you are no longer Marked?”

 

Kingsley spoke up. “I can attest to the fact that Headmaster Snape does not bear the Dark Mark on his body.”

 

“How?” That same back seat questioner asked.

 

“Deputy Headmistress McGonagall was correct about how thoroughly he has been guarded. Headmaster Snape has not had one moment alone since we were assigned to him. Not even to change.” Kingsley looked at Fudge. “Just as the Minister ordered.”

 

Madam Bones shot an outraged expression to Fudge before turning her attention to the black Auror. She snapped, “Why was the fact he was no longer Marked not reported?”

 

“It was, our first morning there I reported it,” Kingsley said.

 

Tonks nodded vigorously, “I also sent one in. He rolled up his sleeves in the Muggles Studies Class one afternoon.”

 

The Wizengamot fell silent.

 

Amelia sighed lightly before speaking again. “Auror Shacklebolt, please free the Headmaster.” She directed her next words to Severus. “If you will please show us your left arm. If it is blank, then you may leave.”

 

The chains fell away and Severus flipped his robe back, causing the Granter ripple about him. Swiftly unbuttoning his coat and shirt sleeve, he pulled them back to his elbow. Everyone could see the unblemished white skin.

 

Amelia nodded once. “Headmaster Severus Snape, all charges against you are dropped. You are free to go.”

 

Fudge snarled and darted towards the floor only to be wrapped up in the green fog that had filled the space. Within seconds the man was unconscious.

 

Severus quickly redid his buttons and stood. As he turned to leave, Amelia’s voice had him turning back.

 

“Your robe is permeated with the Green Mist. Would you please leave it here to allow the Department of Mysteries to investigate it?”

 

One almost careless shrug had it slipping off his shoulders. He draped it over the prisoner chair. “Of course.”

 

Kingsley handed him his wand, and Minerva presented him with another robe she must have just transfigured. With a thank you to both, he walked out of the courtroom as Madam Bones asked for someone to take Minister Fudge to St Mungo’s.

 

 

§§§§§§

 

Severus settled deep in his chair. Filius, Pomona, and Minerva were also sitting near him. There was a light tea spread out on the staffroom table and all four of them were balancing a cup and a plate. The term had ended successfully. Two new professors will be starting on Boxing Day, and everyone was relieved.

 

Filius let a sigh of contentment out that seemed bigger than he was, causing Severus to chuckle.

 

Pomona smiled at Severus. “Did it turn out the way you hoped? The way you intended?”

 

Severus took a small sip of his tea before answering. “Even better.”

 

“Good.” Minerva gave a sigh about as large as Filius’ and packed with the same feeling.

 

Everyone hummed in contentment and continued their tea. Filius waved his wand and floated a plate of shortbread and chocolate digestives to him. “What are your plans for over the holiday, Severus?”

 

“Same as always.” Severus watched as they rolled their eyes.

 

“Holed up in the dungeons brewing and researching then.” Minerva shook her head. “You can’t do it as long as normal this year. As Headmaster you have to make an appearance every now and then.”

 

Filius shot up straight in his chair, his tea sloshing out of his cup and onto its saucer. “That is when you worked out how the Granter was brewed. Do you have the information here? Where did you get the source material?”

 

Severus smirked. “Of course it was. It was also when I was gathering ingredients. Well, then and during the summer unless there were specific requirements that prevented me from doing so. As for the source material?” He leant back in his chair, his eyes focused on the past. “In the first war, Voldemort used me as a researcher. I could read practically any fade word and had more time available for his use. I don’t know, nor do I care, where he got the boxes of scrolls, journals, diaries, and books, but I do know I developed many headaches reading it all.

 

“Slughorn was right about Potions Masters teaching about potions spells to apprentices. I was learning about them while working with this material. Voldemort was only interested in any Dark Arts that might have been lost to history, but I started seeing words, names, and other things that reminded me of the potion spells. When the source material didn’t have anything Voldemort wanted, or if it was copied out of it, he would have me dispose of the original source.”

 

Severus’ lips curled up in an honest smile. “They were deposed of in my own growing personal library. Once Potter banished him, I had time to go through them again and pieced together the Granter for many sources, though most of it came from Terminus Tate’s diary.”

 

“Is it here?” Desire laced the Ravenclaw’s voice. “Your library. If so, can I peruse it?

 

Severus laughed. “Yes, it’s in one of the unused rooms in the dungeon.”  
  


“Severus! Children could have found it,” scolded Minerva.

 

“It’s warded tighter than the restricted section, Minerva.” reassured Severus before he answered Filius second question. “Yes, you can peruse it.”

 

The two witches sighed. They knew both the wizards would only be putting in token appearance during the holiday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> For all those who wonder how Fudge survived, he was on holiday out of the country. He came back and the Wizengamot pounced him looking for at least someone with a touch of experience.


End file.
